


Birthday

by nadia5803



Series: nadia’s king lear au [7]
Category: King Lear - Shakespeare
Genre: as a treat, edmund is just a little gay, good for him ig, he sees kent and his gaydar goes off, not angst, wowza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:48:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23976250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadia5803/pseuds/nadia5803
Summary: Kent bakes Gloucester’s bastard baby a cake!!!!!!!!! Very cool of him!!!!!!
Series: nadia’s king lear au [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612093
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Birthday

During the times Edmund was home alone, the hours felt boring and elongated. He would switch from insignificant task to insignificant task, trying to fill up the empty hours of the afternoon with folly and saturated doses of joy. Edmund would roll through the vast selection of his father’s books, do the dishes, homework, play Edgar’s video games, whatever it took to get his mind off things.

But this cool September afternoon felt different, mostly due to Edmund’s 18th birthday finally coming around the following day. As he walked home from school, he had held out a little hope that his father, or at least Edgar, would be waiting for him.

Well. He would know better not to get his hopes so high next time. Dad left him a small envelope of cash with a sloppily written note and he couldn’t find anything that Edgar left, so he resigned himself to the couch, drowning himself in his music and his social media, before the doorbell rang. Okay, well, maybe one of them had come home early. He picked himself off the couch with that hope and paced to the door, opening it and facing a person who was most definitely not Edgar or Dad.

“Happy birthday!”

Edmund raised an eyebrow. He was about the same height as the man, leading him to at first believe he may have been a schoolmate of his. “Um, I’m sorry, who are you?” Edmund asked, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Right. Sorry. Work has my brain muddled. I’m your Dad’s coworker, the Earl of Kent. But you can, um, call me Richard.”

Edmund didn’t want to appear rude but he double-taked upon hearing that. “Y— you’re him?!” It was hard to believe that this little man, standing informal in a sweater vest and trousers with thick-rimmed glasses upon the bridge of his nose, stood at the same position as his formal and disciplined father. Dad had always described him so highly, as Edmund knew the two were close friends, but he wasn’t expecting this. A cute little boy, who could have easily been mistaken as freshly out of sixth form, an up-and-comer in Lear’s cabinet. For a moment he felt a pang of jealousy, but Kent’s earnest face replaced his envy with relief. “Um, I’m sorry. Of course. I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. I’m Edmund. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Yes, of course, the birthday boy!” Kent grinned as best he could behind his eyebags and he stifled a yawn, holding out a tupperware to Edmund. “Um, this is for you. It’s a cake. I made it. It’s not very good, but I just thought...”

Edmund peeked inside the tupperware and his heart jumped for joy in his chest. “No, this is really sweet, thank you. I appreciate it. My dad has said a lot of good things about you, so, um... yeah. Thanks.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the cake. Sure, it appeared that the Earl of Kent did not seem to be the best baker. But the dedicated attempt at icing and lettering was enough to make Edmund appreciate the kind act. “Thank you very much, my lord.”

“Oh, please, call me Richard. Or Kent. I don’t know, whatever’s easier. I digress. Names and titles ain’t shit,” Kent replied, flicking his hand dismissively with a roll of his eyes. Edmund snorted, tucking the cake beneath his arm. “Well, I hope to see you around again, Edmund.” In all of Kent’s wisdom from meeting this boy a few minutes ago, he couldn’t understand why Gloucester despised him so much. He seemed like a perfectly fine boy. “Have a good birthday. 18’s a big one.” 

“Thank you.”

Kent turned to leave but was stopped by Edmund’s soft voice as he looked at the tupperware again. “Wait. Would you like a cup of tea?” Kent glanced over his shoulder at a smiling Edmund and smiled back.

“Of course I would.”

Kent hadn’t been inside Gloucester’s house in a while but he still remembered the layout of it like the back of his hand. Gloucester’s predecessor and father was a smart architect, and all the trap hallways and hidden doors he had discovered came back to mind. As Edmund searched through a cabinet for the teabags, Kent couldn’t help but wonder if the boy was aware of the home’s secrets. Edmund took a step down from the footstool. “What would you like?”

“Is there anything decaffeinated?” Kent asked, knocking his feet together. 

“Erm, yes. We have... hibiscus, and mint. Sorry, not a wide selection,” Edmund replied, holding the boxes in his hands. 

“No worries, I’ll have the hibiscus, thank you.”

Edmund took out a teabag, setting it on the countertop. He had already heated the water as he had searched, and was careful not to burn his hand on the stove as he turned back to Kent.

“So you’re really good friends with my dad,” he commented as Kent stood there. The stove hissed in the background as Kent fiddled with his glasses.

More than anyone, Kent was aware that his good friend Gloucester was not the greatest parent. Ever since the death of his wife he’d changed, and while it was no excuse for his behavior, a few of the toxic traits Kent had seen in Gloucester’s father had appeared to transfer to his son. It was an unfortunate truth, and despite never having truly met the boy besides photographs and as a baby, he pitied Edmund. Most of all, though, he knew what the boy was going through.

“We went to university together. At Cambridge. He actually helped me get into politics, because at first my field of study was English,” Kent said, leaning on the counter and propping his head up on his hand. “Wasn’t into politics at all before I met him. Ghostwrote his speech, friends for life.”

Edmund forced a smile as he stretched his sleeve over his hand, removing the kettle from the stove and fetching a teacup from the cupboard. 

“But let’s talk about you, Edmund. Have you any plans for college? Anything you’re interested in?” Kent asked as Edmund slid the cup towards him in.

“I’m taking a gap year. I’m not really sure what I want to do yet, actually. I like acting, but I’ve thought about getting into politics, too.”

Kent smirked at the boy and placed his hands around the cup. Edmund found himself briefly distracted by Kent’s painted nails and soft face before he snapped back into reality, pink in the face. “Well, I think you’d make a fantastic fit at court. I’d like to have more friends there,” Kent said jokingly as he tried to fan away the steam. Edmund didn’t take it as such, however, and found himself focusing on the first bit of the statement, and realized how warm his cheeks were turning as he nodded.

“But if you want to do acting that’s cool too. Theater is fun, I used to do it in primary school. Do you?”

“Um, yes! I do. I like plays. I’m usually in the schoom plays. Not as big of a musical or screen fan. But I do like plays. And writing,” Edmund stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Kent grinned. “Aw, how come your father’s never told me? That’s incredible! Theater is tough. Whatever you choose to do, you’ll end up fine, I’m sure,” he continued, waving a dismissive hand. “That’s what gap years are for.”

Because he doesn’t come. Edmund forced the thought out of his head and smiled back at Kent, the tingling feeling leaving his cheeks. “Thanks. I’ll probably end up a desk jockey, though.”

“Pshh. Nonsense. Follow your dreams,” Kent said, waving a hand above his head. “Chase your star. See, I always thought I was going to be a jobless English major, but look where I am now. Aim high. Or whatever. Sorry, this is a crappy motivational speech, you deserve better,” Kent said, putting the tea to his mouth as he sipped. It was burning hot, but out of respect for Edmund, he sipped it anyways. Truly, Kent did mean what he said, and he hoped Edmund picked up on it. He deserved better than whatever path his father wanted for him. He deserved autonomy. Kent made a

mental note to give Gloucester a stern talking-to as he sat the teacup in the counter.

“Thank you, Mr. Kent,” Edmund replied. His expression remained slack, bored, apathetic, but Kent watched his eyes glow. Well, he knew there was no use getting this kid to call him by his first name. Understandable. From his perspective, it must have seemed a bit strange. It was the respectful thing to do, and Edmund was nothing but decorous and respectful. 

Kent finished the tea and Edmund immediately took it off his hands, taking the cup and saucer and delicately holding it. 

“I better go. Thank you for inviting me in, Edmund. Have a lovely birthday,” Kent said, giving him a quick bow. Edmund did the same, the burning sensation returning to his cheeks as Kent headed for the door.

“Mr. Kent!” Edmund called out as Kent placed a hand on the doorknob. Kent looked back at him, eyes inquisitive. Edmund shifted his weight, the cup and saucer still gripped in his hands. “Is being a politician hard...? I’m sorry. That’s obvious, I just, erm...” Edmund struggled to find the right words, but managedto form a sentence. “I hope this doesn’t sound rude. I, um, I know you weren’t in a position of nobility before your employment. What I just want to ask, is, um... is it difficult? Do you... like it?”

Kent pushed up his glasses with the side of his hand, a smile on his face. “It is difficult, Edmund, but you’ll know right away if it’s the place for you or not. Look, courtship isn’t everything, but if it’s really what you want to do, then pursue it for sure. And, yes, I do like it. But you’ll have a lot of natural enemies. But don’t let that discourage you.”

Edmund nodded and smiled back. “Thank you very much, Kent. I hope to see you around,” he said, tightening his hold on the ceramic cup. Kent gave a nod and waved a friendly goodbye to Edmund as the door shut behind him.

Edmund was once again alone. He tossed the cup in the empty sink and threw out the teabag, and sat down on one of the kitchen stools, facing the tupperware that Kent had brought him.

His heart felt lodged in his throat.


End file.
